


Would You Care for a Prompt?

by populardarling



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dark!Katniss, Dark!Peeta, F/M, Fluff, Horror, In Panem, Prompts I wrote on tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25326706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/populardarling/pseuds/populardarling
Summary: All short Everlark-related prompts
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. A Picture Says a Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Everlark Nurse
> 
> Summary: Set in WWII, Katniss asks her favorite patient about the photo of the blonde-haired girl he keeps tucked away in his Bible.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think!

"What's it like?" Katniss questioned, glancing down at the dog-eared photo he was staring at.

The patient looked up, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What's what like?"

She fluffed his pillows and checked his medication. "What's it like to be in love?" It was embarrassing to ask, very unprofessional, as her supervisor Miss Trinket would reprimand, but Katniss was curious what the feeling felt like.

The smirk on his face made her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "What makes you believe I've ever been in love?"

Now he was just teasing her. She'd been by his bed plenty of times in these past few weeks. It was hard not to notice the faded black and white photo of the pretty blonde haired girl smiling up at her whenever she'd come to change his bandages or set down his serving tray. It was hard not to notice how the man would always pick up the photo whenever he was in pain and smile warmly at it, as if it brought him all the comfort in the world. Katniss may have been blind to what that type of love felt like, but she wasn't ignorant to what it _looked_ like. 

"That photo of yours," she pointed. His eyes traveled to his lap where it laid. "You're always looking at it." 

"Is that a crime?" 

"Well, no." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling the long hours of her shift start to weigh down on her. "I just want to know, is all."

"You know," the man mused, tucking the photo away in his Bible, "my mother always used to remind me that curiosity killed the cat."

Was that a play on her name?

"If you don't want to tell me, don't. I don't care all that much." Trying to savor her dignity, Katniss clipped the board back to his bed and started to proceed to her next patient. 

He called her back, all amusement gone. "I've honestly never been in love," he told her, and the way his blue eyes shimmered told her he was telling her the truth. "But I do hear it's wonderful."

"I hear it's painful."

"Yes," he sighed, shifting his position so he was looking straight at her now, "I suppose it is, but isn't fighting for something as noble as love worth all that pain? We all have something we should fight for, shouldn't we?" 

"I think you've done an awful lot of fighting, solider Mellark," Katniss blushed, looking down at her white nurse's shoes. "You did fight for our country and all." 

"I fought because I love my country," he reminded her. "I fought because our country needed me in its hour of need." 

Katniss looked behind her, seeing if anyone was taking notice of their conversation. The only person awake was an older gentleman, another soldier who got caught in the bombing, but he turned his head away from the two, as if telling her to continue on with their conversation. 

"If you've never been in love," she stumbled, fiddling with a loose thread on her uniform, "who's that girl in the photo, then?" 

"Would you believe me if I told you I have a not-so secret admirer?" the patient mused. 

Now he was just messing with her head. “No.”

His bark of laughter startled her, causing her to jump back and ram into her cart. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “but I always enjoy a blunt gal like yourself. It’s a spirit you rarely see in my part of the country.”

“The photo?” she prompted, growing impatient at him trying to change the subject.

“Hm? Oh, yes, the photo.” He pulled it out again, flattening out its corners until the photo was perfectly flat in his lap. “I made a promise to a dear friend that I’d return this for him.”

Oh, now she felt horrible for bringing it up. “I didn’t know...” she tried to apologize, but the man quieted her with a simple gesture of his hand.

“I promised Gale that I’d return this to his girl when I made it back to the states, tell her how much it helped him.” He quietly looked at the torn photo for a moment, shaking his head in bemusement. “I never thought I’d be the one returning--I never was much of a fighter, you see--but a promise is a promise. I need to give this back to Madge.”

Now Katniss was confused. If the picture was of another man’s girlfriend, why would it bring this man such happiness? Wouldn’t the reminder of losing a close friend, of knowing what heartache the girl and the soldier’s family were suffering from be enough to want to hide it away from all eyes to see? Why insist on looking at it every day?

“It’s not the picture itself,” the man explained when he saw her confusion. “It’s the idea of it.” He held up the photo. “Gale would look at this every time we saw something no human should ever have to see. He’d always tell me she was the only thing keeping him sane, and that this picture brought him back to reality, to remind him why we were fighting.”

“That’s a pretty strong statement,” Katniss admitted, looking closely at the girl he called Madge.

“Love’s a pretty strong thing.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she sighed, rubbing at her tired eyes.

His eyes were kind, with no trace of mocking humor in them. “You’ll know when it happens. It’s what I’m always told, at least.”

A patient started to violently cough from the other end of the room, pulling her attention away. “You should go see to him,” he kindly smiled. “Make sure he’s all right.”

She hesitated, not wanting to leave, but knowing someone else needed her. It was her patriotic duty to help the wounded soldiers who passed through these doors. “Thank you,” Katniss said. “And I am sorry about your friend.” 

The man shrugged and set the photo down on his nightstand. “He died for a noble cause. It’s all he ever wanted in life, really. At least what he’d admit to me.” The blond-haired patient chuckled and started to settle in for the night.

Katniss nodded and fixed her cart up, ready to continue on her rounds.“Call if you need anything, soldier Mellark.”

“Call me Peeta, please,” he insisted, resting his head on his pillow. “I’m tired of being called something I’m not.”

Her lips curved up in a gentle smile. “Peeta, then. Call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, trust me, nurse Everdeen,” he chuckled again. “I never hesitate to call when I know you’re on shift.”


	2. A Painter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Katniss and Peeta paint together
> 
> Katniss and Peeta paint the nursery for toast baby girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt I wrote on Tumblr.
> 
> Enjoy and tell me what you think!

They needed to paint the room.

“It’s for the baby,” he insisted when she complained about moving from under the fan. The summer in District 12 had been nothing but hot and humid for the seven month pregnant Katniss, and irritable was an endearing term to describe her mood lately. “Come on, Katniss.” Reluctantly she followed him and rolled her eyes when he explained the correct technique to painting the wall.

“I think I got it,” she snapped, pulling the brush from his hands. It was hard not to take her bitter moods personally, but he had to keep reminding himself that it was all because of the pregnancy; not him. At least, he hoped.

They started in silence, the only sounds coming from the cicadas outside, but soon the silence became too much and Peeta started to hum a song he heard one of the children from the district sing on their way to school. The tune cheered his mood up and he hoped it was doing the same for his wife. Looking over his shoulder to see her progress, Peeta gasped at the smears all over the wall. Katniss was reaching up on her tiptoes to reach as much wall as she could, and as a result, her rounded stomach was touching the wet paint, smearing the evidence that she even painted there.

“Uh, Katniss?”

“What is it, Peeta?” she snapped, reaching farther on her tiptoes with the brush.

“I think, uh,” he scratched his face, not sure how to approach this to his temperamental wife. “I think you should take a break.”

She fell back down to her feet and turned around, her signature scowl written on her face. “You pulled me away from the fan just to tell me I’m not painting a _wall_ right?”

“Well, I think someone wanted to join in on the fun.” He pointed down to her stomach and her eyes followed, seeing the bright yellow smeared all over her white tank top. Instead of yelling or throwing her brush like he expected, Katniss started laughing. She started laughing so hard she had to lean against the wall for support, not caring about her clothes at this point.

“An artist!” she laughed, resting her hand on her stomach. “It takes after you, Peeta!”

He didn’t find it as funny as she did, but it was so nice hearing her laughter again, to see her smile, that he started laughing along with her. Propping his fake leg on the floor, Peeta lifted her shirt and kissed her stomach, asking, “Are you trying to paint Mommy? Are you trying to be an artist?” A small kick softly hit him in the face and he looked up at Katniss, the fear in her eyes at the sudden movement, and an idea struck him.

“What are you doing?” Katniss asked when he told her he’ll be right back. Coming back with orange and green paint, Peeta set forth on painting her stomach in both their favorite colors.

“A mixture of our favorite colors in the shape of a smily face,” he smiled, kissing her hand and then her stomach. “To remind you that this is a good thing.”

The corners of her mouth perked up as she pulled him back up to his full height. “I’m glad we’re in this together,” and she pulled him close for a light kiss on the lips. 


	3. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Everlark on the Titanic
> 
> No matter what, they're in this together.

Everyone is pushing past me, crying to be let out from our confines, but oddly enough, I am eerily calm. I let my steerage peers do all the pleading. There is no hope, anyway. No one is leaving because we aren’t important enough.

My shoes are soaked, the bottom of my dress sopping from the ice cold water rising as the “unsinkable ship of dreams” continues to sink. I don’t take much notice of my clothes or my numbing feet, though. I only look for Peeta. I look at each passenger for his curly mop of blond hair, but all of these passengers have straight, black hair. Where is he?

An Irish man shouts from the top of the stairs something I can’t understand, but the crowd shouts their agreements and the officer controlling our fate shakes his head and holds out his gun, threatening them with it. I just shake my head at their foolishness and go back down the hallway to my room. There is no point arguing with these men. We aren’t important. They should know that.

Maybe Peeta is in our room.

Maybe Peeta knows what to do. He’s far better at English than I am.

“Peeta?” I call out, hoping he’ll hear me. “Peeta?”

“Katniss?” I turn at the call of my name, and see him stumbling toward me, holding his shoulder as he walked. A smile spreads across my face as I sprint toward him, asking where he’s been. “The gates are all locked,” he tells me slowly, patiently. For weeks we’ve been working on my English, but my mind is stubborn and refuses to convert so easily. I understand this, though. I’ve seen it.

“We are going to...die,” I slowly confirm, and he nods. I look into his deep blue eyes, and see how frightened they are compared to mine. Our hands find each other and he kisses my knuckles affectionately, whispering how we will find a way until the very end. I shake my head, and tell him I don’t mind. That I’m fine dying. He’s startled by my certainty, and I explain how I’m fine dying so long as I’m not by myself.

“Together?” I ask him in our native tongue, squeezing his hand lightly, hoping he understands where I am coming from.

Chaos is all around us as we stand in the hallway, water rising toward our knees, but Peeta and I barely notice as he brushes back a piece of my hair, smiles gently at me, and promises, “Together.” 


	4. Do You Love Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mrs. Mellark and Peeta
> 
> Summary: Peeta tells Katniss how he came to live at St. Thomas' Community Home for Lost Souls. 
> 
> This is based off a fic setting where Peeta and Katniss are orphans living in an orphanage during the 1940s (I love me some period settings).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning that this prompt includes child abuse and drinking

“How’d you get sent here, Peeta?” Katniss asked, nibbling on her bite of stolen bread. 

The boy in question swallowed his piece and grimaced. His family life was not something he was particularly fond of talking about. But Katniss was his only friend in the orphanage, and the only reason he hadn’t decided on finding a way to end his life. She deserved to know a bit about his past. It was only fair since he knew so much about hers. 

Wiping away a bit of crumbs from his chin, Peeta sighed. “My dad died when I was little and my mom… Well, she didn’t take his death too well.” All the memories of his mother started coming up from behind the walls where he kept them hidden, and his throat got tight with emotions. “I was only eight when _someone_ finally decided living with her wasn’t safe, but up until then, there wasn’t a moment in that house where I feared for my life." 

Katniss’s silver-grey eyes widened. "Your life?” she breathed. 

He nodded. 

“I know I always complain about Madame Coin and what a pain she is, but really, I’d rather be here than with _her."_

_You’ll never amount to anything!_

_Stupid boy!_

_Liar! You don’t love me! No one does!_

_You should’ve been the one who died!_

He flinched at the memory, remembering clear as day the confirmation Peeta had been waiting for since the fateful night they were informed of his father’s car accident. It was his fault that his father got hit by a drunken driver. He was the one who needed the medicine. If it weren’t for him, Bara Mellark would still be alive. His mother wouldn’t have gone to drinking away her sorrows and becoming a bitter and abusive woman. They would’ve still been a family. 

"What did she used to do?” Katniss’s voice was soft, worried that if she said anything above a whisper Peeta would get more upset. Maybe it was best just to drop the subject. 

“Stuff.” He wiped his sleeve across his face, trying to conceal the fact that he was crying now. He didn’t want to cry, especially in front of Katniss, but it was hard to keep control of his emotions when it came to this topic. It was too much to bear. 

Her eyebrow raised in question and he knew his response wasn’t good enough. Come on, he thought. She’d witnessed her parents death and had her little sister pulled from her grasp in a forced adoption all before the age of thirteen. Katniss could handle his burden. She was strong like that. 

“My mom used to do this…I wouldn’t call it a game,” he explained, trying to find the right word for his mother’s torture. “It was more like a test.” And just like that, the words poured out of his mouth. 

He described how his mother would sweetly call out his name, petting his head with kindness she’d never shown him before, and asking if he loved her. When the “game” first started, Peeta was always sure on his answer. He would firmly answer, _Yes, of course I love you!_ But as the years went by and his mother continued to ask him, his answer became more and more forced. He wanted to love his mother, he truly did, but no matter his answer, no matter what he said, the answer was never good enough for Francis Mellark. 

“Liar!” she would bark at him, slapping the back of his head. “No one loves me!" 

Peeta would plead that yes, he did love her, but her judgment was clouded by the alcohol and his pleas were never heard. 

It wasn’t always a slap across the head that made this game, this test unbearable. No. As the years went on, his mother would find new ways of punishing a "little liar” like himself. She would splash scolding hot water at him, or lock him outside in the freezing rain with nothing but his nightshirt on. Francis Mellark even sunk so low once that she made him dig up a bowl of dirt and eat it for dinner. “A dirty meal for a filthy liar,” she’d sneered while he sat at the kitchen table, spoonful of dirt by his mouth, crying. 

“It was like she was so afraid of not being loved, that she ignored the fact that I did love her once,” he said at last. It was the first time he’d ever said any of this out loud. Peeta could only imagine the pity his friend was taking upon him now, but when he looked up, fearing what her eyes would reveal, he didn’t see pity. Instead, Katniss looked infuriated. Her fists were clenched and her thin lips were practically gone they were pinched so tightly. 

“No parent should _ever_ do that.” Her tone left no room for argument, and true, no parent should ever go to the extent as his mother had, but that was life. That was _his_ life. 

Peeta shrugged, trying to brush it off so they could change the topic. “It was a long time ago, Katniss. And…and I’m over her dumb tests. I mean, you shouldn’t have to keep asking if a person loves you and then say they’re wrong when they give it. She was crazy. No point messing around with the past, okay?" 

Though it was obvious that his mother’s test on whether Peeta loved her or not still bothered him, Katniss dropped the subject for now. She scooted closer to him and took a daring chance; she grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I know it’s not much,” she told him, “but I think you’re really strong, Peeta. Even if you don’t believe it.”


	5. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Kill me. Everlark (I NEED PAIN)
> 
> Summary: Katniss is a serial killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death

The alcohol burned her throat as she took a sip of the drink the tall, blond man bought for her. It was bitter and strong, a man’s choice of drink, but she smiled and asked for the man’s name.

“Peeta,” he tells her, smiling and running his hand over hers. His touch made her skin crawl, but Peeta was tipsy and perfect.

“That’s an interesting name,” Katniss flirted twirling her hair. “Do you have a brother named Wonder Bread, too?”

He laughed, almost falling off his bar stool, and shook his head. “It’s just a nickname I got years ago.” The music started getting louder as the bar’s crowd got rowdier. They had to lean in extra close to listen to each other. His breath smelled like whiskey and for a brief second Katniss reconsidered doing this. There were other men in the bar. Far less puppy-like guys, too.

“Where’d you say you worked again?” he asked her, motioning for another drink. She declined when the bartender asked if she wanted another.

“I used to work at C&S as the assistant to the Director of Finances.”

“Hey!” Peeta exclaimed. “I work there. Great place.”

Her lips pursed together. C&S was far from a “great place.” At least now, anyway. That’s why she couldn’t move to another guy. He worked at that wretched place. “I learned a lot while there,” she stiffly told him. Peeta’s body swayed to the jukebox and started to hum along to the song, sipping his beer in content. This was taking too long. “Hey, you wanna go back to my place?” Katniss finally asked, ready to get the hell out of here. 

Peeta looked surprised, but he agreed like all the others and followed her out. It was too easy.

The drive was short and that was good because he was an obnoxious drunk, even though he claimed he was only tipsy. Each minute spent in the car with him was another minute she planned to use to get back. He deserved what was coming.

When they got to her place, Katniss shoved him into her apartment, demanding he take his clothes off. Again, Peeta seemed startled by her demands, but he obliged and threw his clothes in the corner of the small room. It was good that he followed orders. That meant this’ll go a lot faster than the rest. 

“I want to play a game,” Katniss tersely told him, pushing him toward the canopy bed and tying him up. 

“Kinky,” he laughed, playing along. Ugh. Men. She set him up, making sure he was standing just the way she wanted, and drew a target on his chest with her lipstick. 

“We’re going to see how many times it takes until I hit the target.” She pulled out her bow and quiver of arrows and sweetly smiled at his pale, sweaty face. “Is something the matter?" 

"Isn’t that…uh, isn’t that a bit dangerous?" 

She positioned the arrow and brought it up to aim. "Oh yes,” Katniss simply said. “But don’t worry. The last one was nice and quick. I hit him right in the heart." 

All the color from his face was drained now, and all that stood was a frightened little boy. "Why are you doing this?” he demanded, trying to break free. But she’d learned years ago how to tie a good knot. Peeta wasn’t going anywhere soon. “What did I ever do to you?" 

Everyone always asked her this before she shot them. They should already know, should understand. She sighed, tired of explaining all this. "Because I was fired simply because I was a woman. I was a hard worker, Peeta. I slaved away at that damn company you claim to be so great, but because a stupid _man_ wanted my position, my boss fired me, claiming I was sexually harassing the asshole. My future was ruined because of him.” She pulled back the arrow, ready to aim. “I was blacklisted from all the companies I wanted to work at because of him. And no one cared because ‘why should a girl be interested in business, anyway?’” she mocked. 

“But that wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!” Peeta pleaded, his knees starting to buckle. 

“Stand still!” Katniss commanded. “You work there; therefore you are just as responsible as Cato Edmin. You are just as responsible for being a sexist pig as the rest of the men in that company. So here’s my stance on women’s rights. Here’s my justice. Goodbye, Peeta.” She closed her eyes and let go, hearing a cry of pain. He wasn’t dead yet, his body slumped over, still confined, but that wasn’t a problem. A few stabs with the arrow finished another one off. For the finishing touch she carved C&S into his chest and smiled at the bloody mess. Justice.

Too bad he had to work there, Katniss thought later after she showered and started to pack her few belongings, knowing the police would be looking for him soon. He was rather cute. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY


	6. A Haircut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Peeta’s reaction to Katniss mentioning cutting or coloring her hair?
> 
> Summary: Katniss considers getting a haircut 
> 
> Set in the 1930s. Everlark meets Bonnie and Clyde

“What would you say if I cut my hair?” I ask him one hot afternoon. A haircut wasn’t something I normally thought about–especially when our lives were always in jeopardy with the law–but today I didn’t want to be the adult the past few years had forced me to become. Today I wanted to be the teenage girl I was never really able to be. “Huh, Peeta? Wouldn’t I look snazzy with my hair bobbed and crimped like the actresses from the movies?" 

He snorts at my poor imitation of Clara Bow and lights a cigarette.

"Well?” I persist, poking him in the arm.

“What’s wrong with the hair you got now?” Ever since we took up camp in the woods a few days ago to hide from the police, Peeta’s been nothing but a grouch to everyone in the gang. Including me. 

I flick him in the arm for his snappish tone and swipe his cigarette away from him. “It’s long and hot,” I argue. “And I don’t know, I guess I just like the idea of taking short showers.”

“I don’t mind the long showers,” he chuckles, lowering his hand to the bottom of my dress.

I shoo his hand away. “Do you think I’d look bad?”

His hand tugs on the rubberband holding my braid and pulls it loose, combing his fingers through the snarls. I smile at the touch and ask again.

“I like your long hair,” Peeta shyly confesses. “So many girls have their hair short and that’s nice and all. But, well, I like a girl who stands out. You stand out and I like that.” He wraps his finger around a lock of my hair and smiles. “So I’d hate it if you cut it.”

“And if I do?” I tease, leaning closer in for a kiss. 

His smile turns into a sly grin as he murmurs,“Then what would I grab?” into my mouth.


	7. Are You My Love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Everlark and soulmates
> 
> Summary: Peeta’s Fate timer has gone off and the question burning on his lips is "Are you my love?"

Peeta’s Fate timer has gone off and the question burning on his lips is _Are you my love?_

He wakes to the sound of buzzing and knows today is the day. 

All morning long he takes the time to comb his hair, floss his teeth, and even puts a pinch of cologne on. His mood is upbeat and cheerful as he whistles through his morning routine because today is the day. The outfit he prepared months ago is ironed and has been waiting for this moment and finally Peeta is able to put it on, to button the buttons, and looks at his reflection in the mirror, hoping she will like how he looks. 

He’s not too bad looking, if he’s being honest with himself, and he sort of likes the way the corner of his eyes crinkle in when he smiles or laughs. It gives him character, they tell him, and he wants to believe that. 

_When will it happen?_ he wants to know. When will he meet her? 

It could be on the bus on his way to work. Maybe she’s reading one of his favorite novels, or maybe there are too many seats taken and that’s how they meet. He hopes she thinks he’s a gentleman. 

It’s tempting to ask around.

_Are you my love?_

_Are you the person I fall in love with?_

He patiently waits.

All day.

Girls pass him on the streets. On the bus. In Starbucks. They pass pass pass and still no romantic gesture from Fate above. 

The day is coming to an end and he starts to worry. Something must be wrong. He looks down at his wrist in confusion. The numbers all read 00:00:00. Nothing is wrong with the watch. It’s done what it’s supposed to do. But where is his true love? Where is she? 

His mood starts to sour as he realizes how foolish it was to believe in such finicky things such as Fate. Nothing was fateful anymore. It was all too much of a coincidence and too little Fate. 

The day grows darker and darker and Peeta’s mood goes down with the daylight. 

Nothing is going right. 

The customers were terrible. He burnt his finger on a hot plate, and he’s pretty sure he heard his two co-workers who help bake and sweep up the kitchen having sex in the broom closet during lunch. 

This was not how he envisioned the day he met the one he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. Not at all. 

The _OPEN_ sign is turned off and the pastries are put away as he closes shop after nine o’clock. Nothing happened today and all he wants to do is grab a six-pack at the nearest Jewel and go home to forget all the uneventful things that’s happened today. 

The bell over the door rings and he tells the woman they’re closed. His tone is clipped and annoyed because he knows she’s not the one he’s been waiting for. She’s just another woman like the rest of them. Nothing special. At least not to him. Everyone has a special person. It’s how they were made. 

Jewel is pretty empty by the time he gets to the store, but there’s one last six-pack of Woodchuck left.

He reaches for it just as another hand reaches for it. 

“Dibs,” the woman says triumphantly, grabbing it out of his hand. 

It seems the entire female race is mocking him today, but he acknowledges that it’s only polite to give her the last six-pack. 

The woman smiles and sticks the pack in her grocery basket. “Thanks,” she says, her voice light and airy. “It’s been a rough day and I just really need a night to cut loose, you know?” 

He knows. 

She stands there, awkwardly, and looks around. “Oh, there’s my sister! Thanks for the sacrifice!” and she runs off in the opposite direction he’s headed. 

Fate-less and now beer-less, Peeta grabs a pack of Miller Lite and drags himself to the cashier. That girl was cute. Why couldn’t she have been the one he’s been looking for? 

Today was not his day. 

Everything he knew was a lie.

A woman rushes after him in the streets, telling him to stop. 

“You forgot your receipt,” she breathes, crouched down on her knees, gasping for air. He’s confused, not sure why this woman chased him for a block to hand him a $18.70 receipt, but he takes the paper from her and shoves it in his pocket.

“Thanks, but it’s just a dumb receipt. No biggie.” 

She straightens herself and holds her wrist out. 

“I’m out of time.” 

He looks down at the hand holding the beer and shows her his. 

“Me too.” 

“I just thought you should know,” the woman fidgets with her braid.

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

People pass as they stare at each other, wondering.

_Are you my love?_


	8. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jealous Katniss
> 
> Summary: Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead. 
> 
> Aka Katniss doesn't share well with others.
> 
> Dark!Katniss  
> Dark!Peeta (kind of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic violence, cheating, and minor character death 
> 
> Edgar Allan Poe's writing definitely inspired this.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize to the girl, tightening the gag around her head. “I truly am.” Glimmer Anderson tries to scream through the material once more, but nothing more than a muffled screech escapes the confines of the gag. I bend down and wipe away a tear that’s fallen down her cheek. “I told him he should have sent you away, but he just didn’t listen, now did he?” I ask, tapping her nose teasingly. 

She struggles in the chair, almost tipping over she’s fighting against the restraints so hard, but silly girl, I used to hunt before my wedding. I know how to tie easy prey up like I know how to breathe. It came naturally and my maid was a simple catch. It was so easy, actually, that I lost a bit of fun in the chase. 

Oh well.

Soon she’d be gone and that’s all that mattered. 

I stand up and walk to the table I’d set up before bringing her down here. I had to make sure this all went to plan so no one would ever find out. No one would miss Glimmer Anderson, I was sure of it. 

“You know,” I chuckle, making small conversation, “when I was a child, my mother used to tell me that all secrets come out in the open sooner or later.” The large knife attracts my attention first and I hold it up for inspection, the light glinting off it. “Do you agree with that, Glimmer? Of course you do,” I answer. “You thought I’d never find out you were fucking my husband behind my back, but I did. My discovery will be our little secret, though, okay? Peeta only knows I dislike you. He has no idea I saw you two in _my bed_. But like all secrets, only two can keep a secret, dear. Sadly, one has to be dead for it to be safe.” Her eyes widen at the blade and her body thrashes against the chair, more tears falling. 

“What kind of name is Glimmer, anyway? Were you one of those prostitutes before being hired?” The blonde fiercely shook her head and I just sighed. Why lie now? 

I hold up the rope and wonder if strangling her would be better. It’d be less bloody than stabbing her and she had a better chance of surviving if I stabbed her, but I didn’t _want_ there to be a possibility of her survival. I wanted Glimmer’s death to be painful and violent. 

“Did you know Peeta and I were betrothed when I was only two? Isn’t that such a long time ago?” She tries to scream again, moaning behind the gag, but I shake my head and tell her there’s no point. “We’re the only ones in this house. I can’t have anyone figuring out where the maid vanished to, can I?” 

My decision is made and I take the sharp knife, cradling it in my hands with care. “We were affectionate toward each other when we were first married,” I continue, precariously holding the tip of the blade to her hand. “He even told me how relieved he was that I wasn’t an ogre like his mother when we fucked for the first time.” I dig the blade deeper into her hand and she starts to shake harder. “So you can imagine how surprised I was when I discovered my dear, beloved husband fucking the maid, and I’m sure you can imagine what type of position you put me in when Peeta refused to fire you.” Blood is dripping down her hand and on the floor, but it doesn’t matter. I was bricking this room once she was dead. I dig the knife deeper into her hand until Glimmer is thrashing in pain, trying to scream her head off, but I pull the blade out and stab her other hand.

“It’s a sin to sleep with a married man!” I shout, stabbing her left hand once more. “A sin!” 

There is so much blood pooling from her hands now that I back away in shock and disgust for a moment. What am I doing? Am I really killing my maid? 

Doubt starts to creep in as I watch her blood continue to drip to the floor, but then the image of her on top of my idiotic husband comes to mind, her moans of pleasure piercing my memory like the knife sticking in her hand, and my blood boils once more. 

Peeta refused to fire her.

It was the only way to get back at the both of them. 

He would lose his precious whore and she loses her life. 

Glimmer’s eyes start to close from blood loss and I slap her awake, making sure she lives long enough for me to choke her to death. I’ll be damned if she doesn’t give me that right.

“I can’t have my husband’s mistress working under my roof,” I say, holding her head up. “I’m not the submissive wife who allows this. Peeta’s been mine since I was two. He’s only _ever_ been mine. I hope you understand.” And I plunge the knife into her stomach, stumbling back to watch her squirm in discomfort. I hate the sight of blood, and the smell is starting to make me feel woozy, but I breathe through my mouth, knowing it was time to finish her off. 

I take the rope and wrap it around Glimmer’s small, elegant neck. I pull the rope back tightly and whisper, “He’s _mine_ ” into her ear before pulling hard until her body stills completely. 

I did it, I breathe in shock. I killed her.

I run out of the room to get the wheelbarrow of bricks I’ve been collecting for weeks and cement mixture I bought weeks earlier. 

I hum the haunting melody of hanging men my father used to sing to me as a child as I brick the deceased whore in, smiling wickedly at her mangled body one last time before placing the last brick in. 

No one would ever know. 

I’m taking this secret to my grave.

* * *

The next morning when Peeta returns from town and asks where Glimmer is, I pull him closer by his tie and kiss him hard on the lips. 

“We confided in each other last night,” I confess to my husband once we’ve sat down for breakfast. “And I know it’s not my secret to speak of, but she’s married, Peeta, can you believe that? She lied to us just to get this job.” I watch his posture stiffen in his chair as I sip my tea. 

“Did she leave?” 

“Oh yes, her husband was very ill. So ill she feared he’d die!” I sigh dramatically and put my hand on his. “She was so distraught I sent her home at once. I doubt we’ll be seeing her again; his illness sounded severe.” 

“And she confided this to you?” Peeta asks skeptically. “Glimmer told you she had a husband?” 

“She did confide in me about her secret husband, and only two can keep a secret, dear,” I smile and then laugh, adding, “But I guess I’ll have to kill you now for knowing hers!” 

He laughs at my comment, accepting my lie and kissing my hand with the same affection he used to show me before Glimmer. “You couldn’t harm a fly, Katniss.”

I think of the dead body bricked in our cellar and smile a wicked smile, continuing to sip my tea.

Harmless indeed. 


	9. Hey Peeta?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Katniss drunk and eating a sandwich in bed
> 
> Summary: Katniss is a lightweight and Peeta is a saint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All based off actual drunken escapades.

“Let me count how many hairs you have,” Katniss giggles, pulling at his arm hair. “One…two…three…”

Peeta slaps her hand away and drags her up the last flight of stairs to his apartment. Every year this happened. Every year Katniss swore up and down that this year was going to be different. That this year she was not going to drink anything at Finnick’s big New Year’s Eve party, and just like every year, something happens at the party that gives her the impression that _one little shot_ won’t hurt.

“You are _soooo_ tall,” she continues laughing and she stumbles up a step almost knocking them both down the flight of steps. “Oops!" 

He doesn’t say anything--mainly because she’d forget it all the following morning. Katniss had a way of forgetting her drunken escapades. 

They make it to his apartment in one piece and Peeta leans her against the wall to find his keys. She smiles at him, her drunken smile more precious if she'd just stay still, and she pulls him closer for a sloppy kiss. The stench of alcohol waters his eyes it’s so bad and he tells her it’s time for bed, opening the door and turning the lights on.

"But it’s the New Year! Happy New Year!” and she jumps in the air in celebration, falling over, and Katniss looks so surprised that Peeta can’t help but cover up a laugh with a cough. 

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?" 

Katniss shakes her head and lies down on her back, content where she is, and gazes up at him with her sparkling grey eyes. "Hey Peeta?" 

"Hey what?” he plays along, looking down at her.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“…Chicken butt,” and that just about does her in. She’s laughing so hard Peeta worries this is more than just a mere drunken episode. 

“Ha ha.” Aspirin and water is the best thing to get right now⎯-Peeta being well acquainted with drunk Katniss at this point in their lives. He’s gone for barely a minute when she’s screaming bloody murder. “What, what?” he panics, running back in the room. “What’s wrong?" 

"I’M BLIND!” she screams, scratching at her eyes. “I CAN’T SEE!" 

Feeling sorry for his girlfriend and ready to kill her all at the same time, Peeta leans down and pulls her up, telling her to open her eyes. She does and smiles at him like he found the cure to cancer. 

"Now I can tell people I know how it is to be blind!” Katniss proclaims, giving him a hug and pushing herself up so she’s standing. “I could go to meetings, Peeta. Tell the world my story." There’s no point in arguing with her like this and he pushes her to the bedroom. She’s talking a mile a minute about how she’d start her presentation as he peels off her clothes, dresses her in a pair of his sweats, and pushes her into his bed.

"And I’ll do that thing priest-guys do and cover their eyes…” He pulls her hands off his face and tucks her in. Katniss squirms under the blankets, scrunching her face at the confinement. “Peeta?”

“Yes, Katniss?” he sighs.

“You make bread." 

"That I do.”

She twirls a piece of her hair with her finger. “You must be pretty good at making sandwiches." 

"I am…”

“Sandwich! Sandwich!” she chants, bouncing up and down in his bed. 

All he wanted was to crash on his couch and watch a bad movie. “Do you promise to go to sleep if I do?”

She shakes her head and laughs. “Nope!”

“Katniss…”

“Peeta…” she mocks, tilting her head and scrunching her face up, mocking him.

“I will only make you a sandwich if you go to bed afterward, okay?" 

She considers his trade, tapping her chin like a child. “Okay!” and they shake on it. 

Katniss doesn’t go to sleep after Peeta makes her a toasted parmesan chicken sandwich⎯-Katniss being a particular drunk when it comes to her late night sandwich requests. Instead, she cuddles up next to him, dropping crumbs all over his bedsheets, and content with her _delicious_ sandwich, as they watch Flowers in the Attic.

“Psh, they took out the best part of the entire book. GET DOWN ON HER ALREADY!” she shouts at the television screen, sandwich flying everywhere, and Peeta just shakes his head, amazed what Katniss Everdeen was like when drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, even the eyes closed/"I'm blind" one.


	10. Preppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Since Fnur inceptioned the idea that blonde JHutch looks like Zac Morris into my brain, maybe you could write a piece where Katniss notices this same thing and teases Peeta mercilessly? Or go for the gusto and transplant them into Bayside High lol. Your choice.
> 
> Summary: Katniss is tired and isn't in the mood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about Saved By the Bell

It was a lazy Saturday morning in the Mellark household when she noticed. 

“Mommy,” the small girl said, pulling on Katniss’s sleeve. “I didn’t know Daddy was on a TV show." 

Half-asleep from constantly waking upthe night before to soothe her teething son, Katniss rubbed her tired eyes, trying to make sense of what her daughter was talking about. 

"Your daddy’s never been on TV,” she yawned.

“Yeah- _huh_ ,” the girl rolls her eyes, pointing to the TV. “See?”

Between the time Katniss sat down to falling asleep, the Saturday morning cartoons switched to old reruns of _Saved By the Bell_ and there talking to the camera was a Peeta clone.

Katniss rubbed her eyes in doubt, sure her daughter was just being silly, but after the tenth blink, she had to admit the girl was right. Zac Morris looked like a clone of her husband. 

“Did you meet him on TV?”

“Of course not! That guy… He… That man looks nothing like Daddy. You’re just being silly,” but as they continued watching the episode, Katniss couldn’t stop un-seeing it.

That night, when the children were put to bed, Peeta pounced on their bed, crawling up to her with a sly grin. Katniss pushed the book she’d been reading for almost a year now up, trying to signal she really wasn’t in the mood tonight, but that didn’t stop her husband from yanking the book out of her hands and tossing it to the floor.

“Let’s do something together,” he winked, crawling closer to pepper her with kisses.

“Peeta…” she sighed, trying to push him away. “Peeta, I’m tired. _Your_ children were a little bit crazy today. I just want to read a chapter and go to sleep.”

His treacherous lips continued mapping out her body, ignoring everything she’d just said.

“Peeta, I mean it.”

“How come they’re always _my_ kids when they misbehave?” he chuckled, pushing her down on the bed.

A soft moan escapes her, her body betraying her mind, and Katniss let him roam, his mouth feeling so good.

“Peeta…”

“Come on…”

The thought of her children come to mind and then an idea springs forth.

“Ooooh,” Katniss moaned, squirming under him. “ _Mmmm_.” It wasn’t too hard to act since it _did_ feel good, but all she wanted to do was go to sleep. Couldn’t he keep it tamed until the morning?

Both his pride and his cock were growing at each sound she made, encouraged by her kisses until he was at the foot of their bed, ready to tear off her pajama pants.

“I don’t think so,” she panted, yanking him back to her, pressing her lips against his.

Just when _she_ can’t take it any longer, Katniss breathes, “Oh God, Preppy!” It’s more airy than she wanted it, but he hears her loud and clear.

Peeta pulled away, giving her a strange look. “What?”

“Do you want Mr. Belding finding us like this, Preppy?”

“What the fuck, Katniss?" 

"What, Preppy?”

It’s a clock tick later when everything starts to make sense. “WHO TOLD YOU?”

“That you’re a clone of Zac Morris?” she asked innocently. “Our daughter." 

"I hate that fucking show." 

"Is someone jealous? Like, does Preppy need a camera to talk to?” His face looks so ridiculous, so pissed off, that Katniss broke out into a fit of laughter, laughing so hard that he pushes her off the bed. 

And that was how Katniss Mellark knew how to de-bone her husband.


	11. Accident (Pen Pals)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Katniss and Peeta are pen pals falling in love with each other.
> 
> Summary: Katniss and Peeta have never met, but through letters, they fall in love.
> 
> Everlark during WWII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an obsession with 1940s setting????

_I know it sounds foolish, ridiculous even, but Katniss, I can’t express how much your letters mean to me. They’re one of the few things getting me through. I can’t wait to finally meet you, and don’t worry! I’ll bake the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted as a thank you_ and the letter finished with a simple signature. 

_Peeta_

Katniss reads over the short letter once more, laughing at his mention of the apple pie they continue to argue about, and sighs in halfhearted content. They’ve never met, but she feels like she’s known him her entire life, and they’ve never seen a picture of each other, but she imagines he’s handsome. She hopes he imagines the same.

Their writing started by pure accident, when Katniss was trying to write to another soldier. Her dear friend Gale Hawthorne was called to duty not more than two years ago, and she missed him terribly. Her mother suggested a letter would be beneficial for both parties, and for three painstakingly long hours, Katniss worked over just what she wanted to tell Gale. She didn’t want it to sound too weepy like Madge’s letters always were to him, but at the same time, she didn’t want him to think he meant nothing to her. It was hard to find the right balance, but at last, she did it and sent it with confidence, excited to hear his response. Somehow in the midst of the fighting, the postal service sent her letter to a different man in Gale’s squad: Peeta Mellark. When the response to her letter returned, Katniss was so surprised when she opened up Gale’s letter to find not one but _t_ _wo_ responses.

The first letter was in Gale’s messy scribble. He told her how he was fine and that the Army was doing him well. She smiled at that, glad to hear her friend was in good spirits, and his letter continued telling her about the men he’s met, but a lot of his letter was blacked out from the government in case someone interfered with the mail, and it made the letter challenging to read at some parts. She was curious about the second letter. It started with an apology for accidentally opening something that was not addressed to him, and the stranger continued on saying how he was so excited to finally be getting mail that he didn’t bother to check it. 

_I hope you don’t mind, Miss Everdeen. My family is not the type to send letters and wait for responses and I let my excitement that someone had written me get out of hand. But I must say, your letter was beautiful and Gale is sure lucky to have a swell gal like you writing him. Again, my apologies._

And she found it so flattering, so funny that this _Peeta Mellark_ was so flustered and embarrassed, that she wrote a letter addressed to him. And thus began their interesting friendship. Peeta never wrote about the war and many times Katniss would forget that she was reading a letter written by a soldier, instead of a man living a mile away. He told her all about his life in Illinois, how it’s so flat a person could see for miles, and how he hopes to come home, settle down, and run a bakery after the war. 

_I’m the best_ , he’d written a few months ago. _Don’t let anyone fool you! I could bake you the best apple pie around._

And their teasing over pies started. His letters charmed her in such a way that she wondered if this was how Madge felt whenever a letter from Gale came for her. Katniss never imagined being like the women in her town, waiting each day for news of a loved one, dancing around the front lawn when one arrived, but here she was, locked in her room after a long shift at the diner, fawning over a letter in private.

_And he wanted to meet her._

She takes out her stationary, deciding to write the letter out before bed, and writes how the past few weeks have been, how cold Pennsylvania gets in January, and how her baby sister became a mother a few days earlier to a healthy baby boy. Writing letters was a piece of cake now, her words flowing in conversation, wondering what Peeta will say to each sentence. Would he find her sad attempts at humor funny? 

With her best penmanship, Katniss signs her letter, but staring at the sheet of paper, she realizes something is missing. It was already personal, but something about the way he told her how excited he was to meet her-- well, her letter lacked in comparison. Looking at the small knickknacks lining her desk, she tries to find something to make this letter mean something. Her eyes land on the framed photo of her and Prim and an idea comes to mind. Barreling down the stairs, Katniss rips open her family’s photo album and finds a more recent photo of just her, shyly smiling at the camera. It only made sense for her to be the first to “meet” him since she was the one who sent the letter first. On the back of the photo, Katniss writes _I_ _’ll be waiting for some Victory apple pie_ and seals the envelope.


	12. Take a Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Everlark huddling for warmth.
> 
> Summary: Katniss convinces Peeta to take a break and play in the snow.
> 
> Set in the Rumor Has It world

Idly tapping her pencil on the cash register, Katniss longingly gazed out the bakery’s front window at the children playing in the snow. It had started snowing the night before, creating this mystical winter’s wonderland they had read many times in stories, and all day she had watched the Merchant children running and laughing, throwing snowballs at each other. It all looked like so much fun; she wished she could join them instead of being forced to work her double shift. 

Why did Papa have to be sick today? 

The door to the kitchen swung open and in walked Peeta with a tray of hot rolls from the oven. He greeted her with a small kiss to the cheek, hoping to get her attention, but Katniss continued to watch as a few younger kids rolled the heavy flakes into balls, creating a snowman. 

She wanted to make a snowman. 

“Peeta,” she said finally, turning her head to look at him. “Peeta, let’s make a snowman." 

"We can’t,” he muttered, counting how many more loaves they needed to sell before they went stale. “We’re working until closing." 

"But I want to,” she whined, stomping her foot. It didn’t matter that she was almost fifteen years old. Peeta might be good with getting others to do things for him, but Katniss knew just the right strings to pull in order to get her way. And they’d been working all morning. Didn’t they deserve a break?

“Too bad,” and he walked back into the kitchen. 

Ugh! He could be so responsible sometimes! 

A snowball hit their window, a loud _SMACK!_ causing her to jump as the glass shook, and an idea popped into her head. 

_SMACK!_

Peeta jumped in the air, almost burning his hand on the oven door. Cold seeped through his white t-shirt and he pulled his hand back to realize he’d been hit with a snowball. Katniss stood in the doorway to the room where they kept the ovens, a cheshire grin beaming at him, and she threw her second snowball at him. It nailed him right in the face, making him sputter out the cold, wet flakes. 

“Katniss!" 

She giggled and brushed the white snowflakes off her gloves. 

"Let’s take a break." 

"Papa will know,” Peeta sighed, pulling at his shirt.

“But don’t you want to get back at me?” And her grin turned into a wicked smile. “You almost burned your hand because of me. Don’t you want to get even?" 

He _had_ almost burned his hand because of her.

And he _did_ want to get back at her. 

One snow fight couldn’t hurt, right? 

"I’m going to get you, Nissy!” he growled, chasing after her. She screamed in delight, running outside to prepare her amo. _No fair!_ Peeta thought. He still had to get his coat and boots on.

They played longer than they had anticipated, and Katniss convinced him to help her make a snowman because she was Katniss and she always got her way with him.

Later they would have to get a stern lecture from their sick father about how this isn’t good for business, and that anyone could have come in while both were in the back fooling around. “You are almost adults,” they both imagined Bara sternly saying, “Start acting like it!”

But they didn’t care.

Business wasn’t even that busy today.

It started to snow again as they lied on the ground, still in the process of making snow angels.

“I told you it’d be fun,” Katniss teased, finding Peeta’s gloved hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Much better than working.”

“Papa’s going to kill us,” her brother laughed.

She rolled over until she was wrapped in his arms. “No he won’t,” she said, running kisses up and down his neck. “He loves us.”

“And you don’t hurt those you love,” Peeta finished. 

“That’s right.” She gave him one last, chaste kiss before smothering him with a pile of snow, stumbling out of his grasp, and ran back to the bakery, laughing her head off as he lied there in shock.

She could be a wicked one, that Katniss Mellark.


	13. Studying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Everlark, high school/college
> 
> Summary: Katniss needs help studying for a test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mention of drug addiction and underaged drinking

“Katniss Marie,” a stern voice yells from behind her door. “It is four in the morning.” It’s her father. “Stop this screaming, or I’m going to call the doctor again.” 

She twists around in her seat, frantically looking around at the dark room. _Oh good_ , she breathes in relief. There’s no crowd to mock her, to remind her of what’s expected of her. She’s safe in her room, alone. “Sorry, Dad.” Her neck aches, meaning she must have fallen asleep with her text book as a pillow again. 

“Don’t let it happen again,” Mr. Everdeen sighs. “Your sister has an important exam tomorrow. She needs her sleep.” 

Katniss rubs the sleep from her tear swollen eyes. Of course everyone needed to be quiet while perfect Prim was sleeping. Of course. She tells her father she’ll keep it down and wishes him a goodnight. 

Her Anatomy book is open as well as four other text books spread across her desk, and she looks down at where she remembers leaving off in her notes. 

“I’m going to do terrible on this,” Katniss groans, her face slamming into the book. There was no way she could pass with a perfect score on this test. No way. 

A soft vibration goes off under the pile of notes on her bed and she shoves papers off to find her phone vibrating, a goofy picture of Peeta flashing on her screen. It was a text, asking how the studying’s going. 

_I’m going to fail_ , she sends.

A minute later her phone buzzes.

_Tough time focusing?_

It wasn’t so much her problem focusing as it was her lack of care for the class, in general. She was going into the family business, why worry about the functions of her body? 

_A little_.

_Are you out?_

Out of her mind for agreeing to take this class, yes. Out of patience for high school, yes. Out of her smart pills, fuck yes. She ran out of them almost a week ago and thought the image of her father’s red face would be enough drive to get her through the week without having to ask for any more from Peeta, but he knew her well, knew what she needed. 

_Are you coming over?_ Katniss types, hoping he’ll get the hint and bring her stash. Ever since her father caught her popping pills her sophomore year, threatening to send her to rehab if she continued this foul habit, she’s kept her stash hidden at Peeta’s. It wasn’t her most preferred method since he sometimes chose to be an ass and limit her even though they were _her_ pills, but she didn’t have enough time in her day to paint her nails let alone go to rehab. 

She looked at the clock, the red digits reading almost four thirty in the morning now. Eh, they’ve snuck out later than this, or would it be earlier? 

_Come over here. ;)_

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

There was no time to move all her shit to his house. 

Vampire Weekend’s “Oxford Comma” goes off on her desk, making her jump. What the hell was he calling for? 

“Just come over here,” she tells him, not even bothering to say hello. She was tired and cranky and smelled failure in her near future. Couldn’t Peeta be nice to her at least this once?

“Well good morning to you, too, princess,” he yawns.

“You think I’m ribbing you, but I never kid.” She yawns herself, considering telling him to forget it, that she was going to bed, but one look at her notes and text books spread across her desk and bed remind her why she needs her stash ASAP. “We could quiz each other on the vocab section.” 

“We could do that here, in my bed.” 

“I have no time for sex, Peeta.” 

His laugh is tired, softer than usual, “Wouldn’t that be a fabulous way of knowing the body? You could list all the male body parts while I recite all the muscles and bones being used between the two of us…” 

“Oh, Peeta,” she deadpans, setting her phone on speaker so as to get more notes jotted down, “You really know what turns me on, don’t you?” 

“Are you wet?” 

“So wet I’m swimming.” 

“Ew. No need to get that horny, shit.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Are you coming over or what?” 

“Has your dad restocked the liquor?” Ah, Peeta and his drinking problem.

“It’s four-thirty, are you really going to get drunk right now?” 

“You have your studying methods and I have mine.” 

Touché.


	14. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pre-Games AU where Katniss finds Peeta alone in the meadow sketching/drawing while she was on her way to hunt in the woods
> 
> Summary: What the prompt says

Never before had she seen anyone besides her and Gale out here in the woods. Never before had Katniss thought anyone in their District had the courage and desperate need to come out here, but when she spots the figure hunched over on the rock where her and Gale normally met on their Sunday morning hunts, she pulls an arrow out, ready to attack.

The figure doesn’t hear her, doesn’t know its life may end with the simple action of her releasing the arrow, but when she gets close enough to the rock, Katniss falters, baffled at the person in front of her.

“Peeta Mellark?” Of all the people to be in the woods, Peeta Mellark was one of the last she expected to see. 

Her voice startles him, causing him to fly off the rock in a heartbeat. “Oh!” he breathes a sigh of relief. “Katniss, hi!“ 

That’s all he has to say? Katniss looks at their surroundings, not used to seeing the baker’s son anywhere near plants and trees, and asks him what he’s doing out here. "Are you hunting?” Perhaps the boy with the bread is more of a threat than she thought.

“What? No!” Peeta exclaims when he senses her suspicion. “I’m…” He blushes, and she’s never seen a boy blush before. “I was drawing.” He holds up a small notepad. “I sometimes come out here when my mother is too sick to get out of bed." 

That must explain the amount of times she’s ever seen him out here, then. 

"You shouldn’t be out here,” Katniss argues. “You can get hurt.”

“Aren’t you out here?” he smirks.

“Aren’t you weaponless?” she counters.

Laughing, Peeta shakes his head and gathers his belongings. “I could always stab a bear with my pencil, or tell it a terrible joke. You’d be surprised what I can handle, Katniss.” And with that he waves her goodbye, wishing her a good hunt. 

She’s baffled at his abrupt appearance and departure that she shoves it away as the coal dust getting to her head. Peeta Mellark has no need to be out in the woods, and she’s never seen him draw in her life.

It’s all in my head, Katniss decides. 


End file.
